


A Snob and a Half

by riveting



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Clueless (1995) Fusion, Fluff and Humor, M/M, i'm sorry i just wanted an excuse to write minho as paul rudd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 18:12:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17647451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riveting/pseuds/riveting
Summary: If Minho could turn down his music, that'd be great. Ex-stepbrothers aresoannoying. A Clueless AU.





	A Snob and a Half

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. my tag lied this rly was just me taking elements from clueless bc i wanted to write minho as hot young paul rudd  
> 2\. ok but minho rly does have [this](https://open.spotify.com/track/5OxvNkwfPjrXimy8T1P8kR?si=wnlu9FpKSG-FRe1dto--1Q) song on his [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/straykidsofficial/playlist/5KKwwx17COw4y54YTn207n?si=3OUEaFKeQVyYiTMy2S88Xw)

Hyunjin wakes up to the familiar sound of R&B music blaring outside his room. He looks over to his bedside table. It's five past eight.

“What the _hell_ ,” he grunts, groggily standing up to slide open the glass door leading to his hanging balcony. The sky is clear and the sun soft, an extreme contrast to what’s happening just below, where he finds Minho in a white top and black sweatpants standing in the middle of their backyard, practicing what looks like the basic isolation technique for possibly the 30th time this week. And that’s only what Hyunjin has come to witness. Squinting, he recognises a loudspeaker on the grass and a camera perched on a tripod next to it.

“IT’S EIGHT IN THE MORNING! ARE YOU CRAZY?” Hyunjin shouts, trying to go over the music. Minho doesn’t budge. Hyunjin leans forward on his balcony fence until half of his body is hanging out. “TURN IT OFFFFFF,” he tries again.

This time, Minho pauses immediately in the middle of a move and looks up, shooting a toothpaste ad smile. “GOOD MORNING!” he shouts back, unnecessarily cheery for an interaction as early as _eight in the morning_ on a _Saturday_. Hyunjin frantically gestures at him to turn the volume down, and Minho, understanding his wild arm movements, runs over to the speaker and presses the pause button. “I thought you were a heavy sleeper,” says Minho, one hand on his hips and the other shielding his eyes from the sun.

"Not when you blast T-Pain right outside my windows, I'm not," Hyunjin grumbles, fully knowing that his voice is unintelligible when he whines. Whatever—it's only ten minutes past eight, they shouldn't even be talking right now. "What are you doing here so early anyway?" he asks, picking his voice back up.

Minho points at his camera. "Dance cover," he deadpans, like it explains everything.

Hyunjin groans and throws his head back. "Please turn it down,” he begs.

Comes instant regret: Minho cocking his head without a word, locking his gaze on Hyunjin while moving his hand to turn the volume button to a deafening volume. He then puts a hand to cup his ear and mouths, _I can't hear you_.

Hyunjin throws his arms in the air because knows he's lost to Minho. Again. _Ugh_ , stepbrothers.

 

 

 

"Dad, you filed for a divorce with his mother for a reason," Hyunjin says at the breakfast table. His father is in town for the whole week, which is unusual, considering his clients are spread across the country and more face time means more billed hours. Hyunjin thinks it’s reasonable, wanting to have the whole house to just the two of them for one whole uninterrupted week. It's annoying that Minho's always over when Dad is around.

“Children will always be family, Hyunjin,” his father tsks. “Be nice to your brother, okay.”

" _Ex-step_ brother, Dad,” corrects Hyunjin, putting emphasis on each of the prefixes. “And when was I ever not nice?” he continues, flashing smile 45-B, the one he uses when he’s trying to get out of conversations with his father. Not that he uses it a lot. He likes conversations with Dad. Just not when they’re about Minho.

“That’s my boy. Now go be at the top of your class.”

It’s twenty minutes later as his taxi zips through Dongdaemun en route to his school when Hyunjin realises he’s forgotten to bring a pen.

 

 

 

Here’s the thing about Hyunjin, see, besides the obvious which is that he’s tall, handsome, second most fashionable in the whole school (only because Felix is first, _duh_ , even Hyunjin knows he has to give this one away), was crowned both prom king _and_ queen at the junior prom last year: he is also, he would begrudgingly admit, kind of a sore loser.

(He takes great pride in the prom victory, because it was the first time ever one person managed to snatch both titles, and Hyunjin’s learned from his father that being at the forefront of things is always commendable.)

“Yesterday, Dad told me Minho-hyung was building another mobile app, and I was like, so? And he was like, your brother— _stepbrother, Dad!_ —is out there changing the world, Hyunjin! You should be more like him,” Hyunjin rants away in a mimicking tone. He’s seated across Felix at their lunch table with 10 minutes to spare before English class.

With fire in his eyes, Hyunjin rags on, “And I told him, he’s certainly not changing _my_ world, and then he asked how I usually buy my coffee? You know, Felix, that app I use so I can get coffee delivered straight to my house?” Felix nods frantically at this. He’s such a great listener. “Apparently, Minho-hyung _built that app_. That’s so crazy! And attractive, bust mostly annoying. He’s such a nerd, but Dad thinks he’s the coolest or something,” Hyunjin huffs at the end of his monologue. His soup has gotten cold. “Do you think nerdy would suit me?”

Felix knits his eyebrows together at the question, munching on his porchetta sandwich. “You have the face and height to make literally any look in the world work, Hyunjin.”

“Who’s Minho?” Seungmin quips from Felix’s side.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Hyunjin starts. “He’s my ex-stepbrother.”

Seungmin blinks at him. “That’s it?”

Hyunjin’s eyes widen. “Seungmin! Usually people would tell me, _that’s so complicated_.”

Seungmin shrugs. “It does sound like there’s a lot of layers to it, but if you still talk to each other then I don’t see the problem?”

Putting down his cutlery, Hyunjin sighs. “It’s just that Dad thinks he’s so… I don’t know, _selfless_ for building all these things,” he explains, one hand under his chin. “If only he caught him outside my windows with his loud music!”

Felix shakes his head. “But you’re also selfless, Hyunjinnie. You’re doing all these nice things for other people,” he says. “You befriended Seungmin, a transfer, for example! He would’ve been clueless without us!”

Next to him, Seungmin mumbles with a spoon in his mouth, “I don’t think that’s what selfless means.”

By now, Hyunjin has his chin propped in his palms. “I can introduce you to Minho-hyung, if you want. You’re smart, maybe then he’ll get off his intellectual high horse.”

 

 

 

Most of his years growing up, Hyunjin spent as an only child. There was more upside than downside to this—a lot of it being the center of his father's world. It was always just the two of them, until Minho and his mother stepped into the picture. Hyunjin was only nine, and Minho, two years older, was the coolest stepbrother any nine-year-old could ever ask for. Hyunjin’s earliest memories all include him, somehow, which is weird because the marriage didn’t even last long. And even though the breakup was amiable, Hyunjin still remembers Minho’s bloodshot eyes. He cried a lot that night, too.

At this very second, however, Hyunjin wishes all they had was a weird, semi-estranged relationship. That would’ve been less confusing.

“Can you get the other flavour next time?” Minho asks, loud with his chewing. Hyunjin thinks he should shut his mouth while eating.

“You’re disgusting,” is what Hyunjin says instead.

“I don’t like this one, it’s too sweet,” is how Minho likes to fight.

Hyunjin snatches the bowl of popcorn away as if irritated, because that’s part of the fun of hanging around with Minho, knowing he’ll never get offended. If Hyunjin could gloat, he’d say Minho probably finds every little thing he does endearing. It’s a big brother thing. “I microwaved this for _me_.”

Minho lifts his chin, lips puckered, and he looks like one of the cats they had when they were younger. “When you knew you’d be sharing it with _me_.”

Hyunjin wouldn’t admit it before, but it seems that the harder he tries not to let Minho get under his skin, the less effectively it’s working.

 

 

 

It’s not like Hyunjin has ever dated anyone, but he’s always had a strong aversion against crushing on high school boys. Firstly, they stink and wear too much cologne. Secondly, they always try to copy his homework. Thirdly, college boys are just that much more charming.

Except maybe Minho. Minho dances way too often and deals with too much maths—Hyunjin thinks he should do more sports since the only workout he does is random pushups and situps all over the house. Hyunjin has tried to bring up the topic a few times, but instead of responding nicely, Minho would always lower himself at the edge of the sofa, putting his weight on his arms, and proceed to work his biceps and triceps while maintaining eye contact with Hyunjin until Hyunjin is forced to break it.

It isn’t rare that he launches himself onto Hyunjin afterwards, putting him in a headlock and consequently passing on his living room workout sweat. “EW, HYUNG,” Hyunjin would complain exaggeratedly, hitting Minho’s elbows with his punches. “Get off me!”

And deep in his heart, Hyunjin in these moments would love to turn around and glare at Minho himself, but he knows that Minho with sweat running down his temples would probably annoy him more than it should. 

One shouldn’t look at Lee Minho for too long, from such close proximity. It’s a universal rule.

But even after the marriage fell apart, Minho is still the best stepbrother in the neighborhood. Driving him to places, proofreading Hyunjin’s essays, having Hyunjin’s back when Dad wasn’t super satisfied with his report last semester. And sometimes, Hyunjin wakes up on weekends to find his favourite brand of almond milk in the fridge and pretends he doesn’t realise it’s from Minho, when even his father knows Minho’s the only one who would bother going to that one artisan shop in the far end of the city to get a hand on their limited stock.

So yeah, when he does the numbers—one plus one equals two—Minho isn’t so bad after all. But then again, Hyunjin isn’t very good at maths.

 

 

 

For someone so popular at school, Hyunjin likes to keep things private. He loves making friends and buying people presents on their birthdays, but that’s nothing compared to an invitation to hang out at his house. Felix, for instance, is allowed to barge into Hyunjin’s room any day of the week, any hour of the day, as long as he knocks on the front door first as to not freak Dad out. Seungmin, being new to their very small circle of friends, does not have that privilege yet—simply because he hasn’t met Dad. Hyunjin does like hanging out with him, though, and wants Seungmin’s opinion on things.

Which is why Seungmin is seated at Hyunjin’s coffee table right now, going through Hyunjin’s English homework while Hyunjin reviews Seungmin’s essay for the debate workshop next week. Seungmin is malleable and they fall into a good rhythm fast. Dad would like Seungmin.

“Hey, Seungmin?” Hyunjin calls, standing up to stretch.

“Yes?” Seungmin answers, eyes not leaving the paper on which Hyunjin can see lots of green ticks. Seungmin is smart, so he feels a little smug from the validation.

“Do you want more juice?” Hyunjin offers as he walks away, voice faltering the further he enters the kitchen.

“Water’s fine!” shouts Seungmin from the other side of the wall, at the same time as Hyunjin sighs an exaggerated huff upon spotting a certain figure rummaging through the fridge.

“God," he makes sure to make it sound the most exhausted he's ever felt. "What are you doing here on a workday?”

Minho whips his head around. There's Hyunjin's can of green tea in his hand. “I’m freelancing under Dad’s firm until I score an internship, did Dad not tell you?”

“That’s _stepdad_ to you, hyung,” Hyunjin says, indignant, pushing Minho away from the fridge with his hips.

When he turns around, he sees Minho shift his eyes quickly between the living room and Hyunjin a couple of times before he asks, “Who’s that?”

Hyunjin busies himself with pouring water into his and Seungmin’s cups. He replies, “Oh, that’s Seungmin,” craning his neck slightly in an effort to show nonchalance. He feels a blush creep up his neck, and he manages to scurry out of the kitchen before it reaches his cheeks.

An hour later, by the time Minho has gone back to his own place after interrupting their study session, Seungmin surprises Hyunjin with, “Don’t worry, I'm not interested in your ex-stepbrother.”

Hyunjin drops his pencil. “Oh wow,” he says slowly. “You're the only one who’s ever made the effort to call him by his rightful title.”

“What,” Seungmin responds blankly, unamused. “You need new friends, Hyunjin.”

“Fine,” Hyunjin recedes. “But I’m keeping Felix.”

 

 

 

It’s not until the next day that Hyunjin registers Seungmin’s words properly.

“Oh my god,” Hyunjin shrieks, dropping his seasonal Starbucks tumbler on the ground. Seungmin jumps in his place and his eyes look like they’re about to leap out of their sockets. “I have a crush on my ex-stepbrother.”

 

 

 

The next time Hyunjin sees Minho after his big epiphany—that Seungmin called a _breakdown_ , but Hyunjin insisted otherwise—is after he's woken up by fervent knocking on his door. Minho has one arm extended, a mason jar in his hand. “Smoothie?”

Hyunjin slams the door in his face and hopes Minho doesn’t take it too personally.

Crushing on someone you're bound to see first thing in the morning is  _not_ fun.

It’s like out of nowhere, Minho has gone from being a frequent visitor at the house to _living_ in the same house. And the house is only so big that by the third day of avoiding him, Hyunjin has run out of rooms to hide in. He also misses his fresh iced coffee, but he’s banned himself from using Minho’s products until further notice. Minho would definitely say something if he saw.

Honestly, this is why Hyujin prefers being on the other side. He’s not very good at being the one doing the chasing. He doesn’t know what to do. These days, he’s incapable of doing anything other than quietly backpedal and run to his room whenever he spots Minho.

Like this particular Sunday, for example, where Hyunjin had planned to wear what he wore to sleep last night the entire day because he’s still trying to process the realisation that he’s _harbouring a big fat crush on his ex-stepbrother_ and it does _not_ feel amazing nor worthy of a good outfit. Seriously, all those romance novels lied. They always talked about how fun crushes are, but all Hyunjin is getting is cold sweat and a heart that thumps wildly whenever Minho’s eyes almost meet his. In the kitchen, Hyunjin is dragging himself from the fridge to the toaster, shoulders slumped, but then he catches his reflection on the windows and thinks, at least he looks cute with his peach headband. That he suddenly remembers was from Minho. He hastily takes it off and throws it on the floor.

“Hey! That was from me!”

Hyunjin doesn’t need to turn around to feel like death is imminent. He’s right, of course, because standing in front of him is Minho in a lousy t-shirt and shorts, and Hyunjin wishes he never got out of bed.

Stalking over towards him, Minho screeches, “Fine! I won’t get you anything ever again!” He’s pretending to be angry, and Hyunjin knows because his face is contorted into this funny scowl and he’s _pouting_ and his voice is too high for someone to be seriously angry. Maybe if things were different Hyunjin would laugh, but right now, his brain is going haywire. “That cost three dollars!”

He could pick a smarter response, except Hyunjin chooses to say, “Why are you wearing shorts?”

Minho holds out a thumb and points behind him. “I was gonna swim.”

Hyunjin doesn’t mean to continue with, “You’re gonna swim in that?”

Minho’s forehead furrows, but his fingers are hovering at the edge of his t-shirt. “Do I… need to take off my top here…”

Hyunjin’s voice shakes as he says, “Suit yourself.” It’s embarrassing and he needs to leave immediately.

Silly Hyunjin. He shouldn’t keep letting boys like Minho win.

 

 

 

Hyunjin hates that there are no work-arounds to this kind of thing. Is he supposed to lock himself up in this bedroom? Is he supposed to face Minho directly and tell him everything that’s on his mind? Both options sound like they’re going to suck, so he calls Felix and lets him know he’s going shopping without him, just so his best friend is updated on the progress of his poor attempt at moving on with life. What he didn’t realise was that it was also going to suck, choosing between a sweater and a hoodie but ending up thinking about how good Minho looked in that pink sweater last week. Then he moves onto sunglasses, and he finds the exact pair Minho wore when they went golfing. Then it’s shoes he’s seen Minho wear to dance practice, and Minho’s favourite bubble tea brand, and the book Minho recommended to him once, and Minho's—

Nope. “This won’t do,” he murmurs to himself. Unfortunately for him, it’s also getting late, he really should head back.

He nearly gets the shock of his life when he steps into the house and is greeted by a definitely angry, _Where have you been?_ , making him drop all his shopping bags at once. Hyunjin stands still, shocked by the concern in Minho’s voice.

“Why is your phone dead? Don’t you have a portable charger or do I need to get you one of those too? Couldn’t you have at least told me when you were going to come home? Did you know Dad isn’t here? Okay maybe you didn’t know because it was a sudden change of plans but he had to leave for a conference and for God’s sake, Hyunjin, say someth—”

“Hyung, you’re scary when you’re mad.”

Minho’s face drops, no longer frustrated. There's a shift in the air. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be,” he finally says, voice as soft as the look on his face. “There’s just been a lot going on and I’m pretty stressed about job applications and I really didn’t want to lose my ex-stepdad’s son.”

Hyunjin chuckles heartily. “You said ex-stepdad.”

“Isn’t that what he is?” There’s a miniscule smirk playing on Minho’s lips.

“And you’re not my babysitter,” Hyunjin retaliates. They’re standing at the foot of the stairs, facing each other, and Minho’s gaze on him feels warm. “I’m turning 19 this year, hyung.”

“I’m turning 21.”

“You’re right, you need to find a job soon.”

“Hey—I’m working for your father for the experience!”

“He seriously spoils you too much.”

“He’s the only one who cares!”

“Is that why you’re here all the time?”

“No, that’s because I want to see you.”

Hyunjin coughs, weight in his throat. “Wh—”

“Sorry,” Minho cuts in, panic in his voice. Hyunjin’s never heard this one before. “I thought we were stating facts.”

“You want to see me?” Minho isn’t looking at him, and it’s the bravest Hyunjin’s ever felt, so he ventures, “ _I_ care about you.” He figures he should fix his posture if he wants to get the message across. “A lot.”

Minho looks up, hair falling in his eyes. He’s insanely gorgeous. “You’re gorgeous, too.” And it’s saying a lot that Hyunjin doesn’t even mind that his brain-to-mouth filter has failed him again, because the next thing he knows Minho’s lips are on his, and they’re kissing, and they’re laughing into each other’s mouths.

Rather than feeling right, it feels long overdue.

Hyunjin goes in for a second kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. I'M JUST SO GLAD I'M DONE WITH THIS GOSH i'm so sorry that went nowhere  
> 2\. also i hope i didn't butcher hyunjin's characterisation too much... cher!hyunjin was a challenge  
> 3\. comments & crit are loved always!


End file.
